Sorrow of the Trees
by kittyonnails
Summary: The True Curse of Jusenkyo


The Sorrow of the Tree  
  
Ranma½ Fanfiction  
  
By Noriko Hirano  
  
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A young girl of sixteen kneels in the garden in front of her home. She pulls the thin green sprouts of weeds from among the flowers with a practiced graceful hand. "what if this garden were my life?" she thinks. "I would be this flower, but these weeds would be my family." A soft tear rolls down her cheek . After all these years, she still cries over her losses. "No, I hate thinking of them as weeds. Perhaps they are the flowers, beautiful and brief as summer's warmth, while we are the trees, tough and living through the winters as well, crying with our leaves as the flowers die." She looks up at the surrounding trees, for her home is deep in the wooded mountains, and frowns in wonder at the trees. "Yes, we are like trees."   
  
* * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Her name is Saotome. Long ago she fell into a cursed spring at Jusenkyo in China. Living life to the fullest in spite of this in her youth, she married Akane Tendo; for she was a man at the time. Happily, he raised two beautiful daughters. It was twenty years until the tragedy became apparent. When it was, he cried while he comforted his wife. His woman form was ageless and incurable. The years passed on, unstoppable. Twenty more years took his wife from him, leaving his eldest daughter and her husband to care for him. Five more years and the true tragedy occurred. He was an old man, lying in his deathbed. He anticipated his death, and the rejoining with his beloved wife. He could feel his life slipping away when a splash of cold water shifted his form. The change was permanent, for the other body was dead and this one was eternally young.  
  
She stayed on, watching her great-grandchildren and their children grow-up. One day, her great-great-great-granddaughter, seventeen years aged, carried in a familiar pair, a cat and a duck that reminded her of the ones in Obasama's stories. She saw these two and knew that there was no place for her in the world of death and rebirth. Instructing her descendants to keep and eye out for a small black piglet, she left her home for her current residence deep in a secluded mountainside forest. Only a hundred years or so had passed when she found the sought-after piglet asleep under her porch. Now the four of them exist alone in the woods forgotten by the outside world, and equally forgetting of the world they left. That world is now thousands of years ahead of them, but they have stopped counting the days. They wait patiently for illness to claim them as it mercifully claimed her father so long ago, thus allowing him to die in his wife's arms. In a world he knew, among those he loved, without knowing of the hideous fate that Jusenkyo had tried to brand him with, he died thinking he was unlucky, though the reality was the complete opposite.   
  
She envies her father this, and misses his company sometimes. Long ago she stopped trying to hate him or blame him for the curse, it was all fate after all. Melancholy resignations come easily to her, the happy moments of her life were so brief, the loneliness is eternal. She often envies Mousse and Shanpu, two of her dearest friends, two who understand eternity as well as she does, two who were not separated by the curse; this is what she envies. The true curse, eternal life Jusenkyo style.   
  
* * * * * * * * *   
  
Tears, whose true meaning she lost some time ago, cease abruptly as she enters the three-room tatami house. Built centuries ago by her own two hands it is spotless and in perfect condition. They have no concept of time, only of being tired or hungry. They live one chore at a time, caring for the house extremely well. There is no need to stop a chore except for the need to sleep or eat, in which case they simply do, then to prevent boredom continue the original chore. It is a simple life, the purpose of which is simply to occupy the time between now and death, a finality they may never have.  
  
She lifts a large straw basket that holds her laundry. She never did give up wearing clothes, even if they are slightly different from the ones she wore before. She watches through the open door as Ryouga weaves another strand of rice straw into the tatami mat he is working on. She glances down at the one she is standing on, sliding her tabi-covered foot back too get a better look at the floor beneath it. Sure enough, the straw is beginning to look worn. She shuffles out of the room with the basket of kimonos under her arm. She follows a familiar path, one that knows at least a millennium more of life than she does. The thought that the path was here before she was is both comforting and disturbing to her. She always hurries down it.  
  
Her senses have sharpened with centuries of experience, and she knows there are people nearby before she reaches the spring. They are no threat at all, so she ignores them, sure that like everyone else she has ever encountered (four others in all) they will only stare at her and then leave. She begins her washing, carefully watching the intruders out of the corner of her eye. Two boys, about eighteen years old catch sight of her and duck behind some trees. One of the boys turns and heads in the other direction, but the second stays and stares at her. She feels an unusual desire to stare back, but refuses to allow herself that luxury. The desire she feels is almost foreign to her. It has been so long since something other than reminiscing about days long past has interested her.   
  
He steps out from behind the tree and she can no longer hold back the urge to face this stranger. He strikes a cord long silent in her heart and she gasps, dropping her laundry into the stream. He stares back at her with large brown eyes, equally fixated on her. As a deer caught in the headlights, Ranma Saotome the world oldest and greatest master of martial arts and self-control cannot move. She does not even notice the other boy jogging back up the mountainside until he shouts, "Akaira, hurry up!"   
  
She watches the pair of boys run down the hill in their dark red jumpsuits.   
  
"Almighty Buddha." Ranma whispers as a huge weight is lifted from her heart. He felt it too, she is sure of it.  
  
Carefree, she stands up and falls backwards into the water. Wet, she laughs heartily at her years of misery. She laughs and cries with the joy that comes at the end of a long hard war. Akane, her life's true love is back! Once more, her brief life has come just for Ranma. Precious time with his beloved, while her soul is here on earth. She would not waste it. Still smiling like a lunatic, Ranma ran all the way home.  
  
"Ryouga!" she called for her best-loved friend. Ryouga, who also knew the loneliness of eternity. Though they had had their differences as youths, they were both very old, and trapped in un-aging bodies. Only they both truly knew the meaning of alone. Shanpu and Mousse had each other, but Ranma and Ryouga had no one. Both Ranma and Ryouga had watched their lovely wives wither and die, Shanpu and Mousse had not. They were alone, but so much less alone.  
  
"Ryouga!" She called again and she was answered by a series of piggish, squeals and grunts that were the little pig's way of communication. Only Ranma could understand what the piglet was saying, it was an extremely difficult skill, it had probably taken forty or fifty years to acquire. Only Ranma bothered to learn it because only Ranma ever talked to Ryouga. The translation of the noises came to "what is it?"   
  
Ranma could hardly contain herself, she felt as she looked, a happy little teenager, "Ryouga, I just saw a boy at the river!" She smiled and giggled as she sat next to the piglet.   
  
"That's not a terribly odd occurrence, it happens every now and then."   
  
Ranma looked down at the little pig just bursting with happy impatience, "The boy, he- he was Akane!"   
  
Ryouga looked at Ranma with sympathy and understanding in his eyes, wisdom hard-earned through all his many years of life.   
  
"Don't say it Ryouga. I know what you're thinking, you're thinking, 'Oh, my poor delusional friend, has the time gotten to you? You only think you saw your dead wife at the well, but do remember, Akane was a woman, and she died.' Well, I do remember Ryouga, but it doesn't matter, 'cause I know Akane, not just her sweet and lovely face, not only her silver voice, but her spirit, her soul. It's her- It just feels like it's her. There's no other way around it. I'm not alone any more."   
  
Ryouga smiled weakly, "I hope you're right Ranma, I really do."   
  
Ranma's eyes, wild with excitement, softened; "Thank-you, that means a lot to me."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *   
  
Ranma giggled childishly, "Do you suppose girls still dress like this Ryouga?"   
  
She smiled at herself in the mirror, her hair was long and wavy, tied at the neck with a pale pink bow, she wore a pink blouse with white flowers embroidered on the collar and a smile that felt as though it had not graced her face for centuries. A cloud had lifted and they could both see the light shining through, but none so clearly as Ranma. She pulled a white sweater with matching embroidery on and picked Ryouga up.   
  
"Let's get going." The pair shuffled silently through the woods, it was several miles back to civilization. By noontime they were nearing the end of the forest. They stopped at the edge where they could see a park. Several lines of teenagers stood there, listening to an adult shouting. They all wore coveralls and had short cropped haircuts. Ranma scanned the crowd and found the boy, there was Akane.   
  
She sat back and breathed, "I suppose his name isn't Akane."   
  
She looked at the lines, so orderly, so droll.   
  
"Do you suppose that 's class for them?" She giggled a bit and stared at the boy. She concentrated and made him glance her way. Then she blushed because he stared at her. No one else noticed her, no one but him.   
  
They stared at each other for the next hour, wondering if this was really happening. Ryouga began making bored little pig noises.   
  
The 'teacher' clapped and the orderly lines turned into a mass of bodies, milling about, trying to find a place to stand that wasn't in line. Ranma's heart just about leapt into her mouth. The boy was walking straight for her. He crashed through the forest a few feet in to where she was hiding.   
  
"It's you." He whispered, staring at her even more intently than before.  
  
"I am sorry, I accept the punishment. But please, put my statue in the forest by the river where I was watching you . You are so beautiful, I want to be near you."   
  
She frowned, "what are you talking about?"   
  
He sat back on his heels, "You, you're the lady of the forest. The immortal one who turns young boys to stone if she sees them watching her." He seemed surprised that she didn't know, but kept right on talking;   
  
"She is the most beautiful woman in the world, and the oldest. She turns boys into stone and girls into slaves, that is why you must not go too deep into the forest." He recited without flaw. She smirked, somewhat pleased that she had become a ledgened.   
  
"My name is Ranma Saotome. I'm not a monster, but I am very old and kind of immortal. What is your name?"   
  
He blushed a deep crimson, "Akaira Sawada. I knew you weren't a monster." He looked away from her.   
  
"Ever since I was ten, I've had dreams about you. You come out of the forest and take me to your caves. I knew you would come for me after I saw you."   
  
She smiled. He continued, "You are the one who cries because she is young, the one whose tender smile understands all pain."   
  
Her smile faded a bit, "Yes, that does describe me, at least the first part. I believe you to be a reincarnation of someone I knew a long time ago. Is now a good time for me to whisk you away into the forest?" He nodded and she stood up and led him back to the house.  
  
* * * * * * * * *   
  
"Akane is engaged to me!" the beautiful forest girl Ranma stood between himself and another man. She stretched her arms and the man laughed.   
  
Akaira opened his eyes to find himself in a tatami room. Ranma sat in the doorway, holding a tray, "good morning Akaira." She wore a black kimono decorated with large red and yellow flowers. Her hair was pulled up in a pigtail. He stood and straightened his uniform before sitting. She set the tray on a low table at the other end of the room.   
  
"Did you sleep well?" She asked, pouring tea from the steaming pot. He had never seen tea from a pot before, except in movies. Akaira nodded.   
  
"This is surely heaven." Ranma nodded whispering, "and all of the seven hells at the same time."   
  
He took the chopsticks up in one hand and tasted the food. Delicious! This was nothing like the packages at home. It was better than restaurant food even. He leaned back and sighed, utterly content.   
  
His soul had been searching always. Akaira had never fit in very well at home. He had always been so interested in history and antiques. His classmates had found that extremely boring. He had also known from a young age that he belonged in nature, not in the city. That is what had brought him to the Highlands school in the first place. He was studying to be a field botanist and an archaeologist. He would study nature and the past, his two loves. It all made sense now. He had found what his soul was searching for. It wasn't science and it wasn't in the dead things of the past. It was alive in him; it was here with this cursed forest maiden, the girl from his dreams. He was meant to live with her here always. Though he had just met her he knew his soul loved hers. There seemed no question that their hearts would grow together soon enough.   
  
"May I stay here always?" Ranma nodded, "You may stay as long as you like, for the rest of your life even." She smiled.   
  
"There is a poem I know that was written by another man who was in love with you Ranma. It is ancient, but I have it memorized, if you want to hear it." She smiled, "of course."  
  
"Mountain girl, why hide from the world? As old as the stars. Your beauty is too great for me to be, and I wait to see your fiery hair in the window."   
  
* * * * * * * * *   
  
New year's would be in two days, and Ranma thought about nothing else as she pounded out rice cakes. She thought about nothing else until she saw Penki running towards her. Her little daughter's shouts of "mommy-mommy!" never failed to make her smile. Penki was followed shortly by Akaira. As Ranma showed the little girl how to pound out her own little bit of rice, Akaira began chopping at some firewood. It was a hard life living in the mountain but a good one, love and friendship were here. The worries of the world could not reach them. The mountain forest where they lived was a national park, and people would never venture near a well-kept house in the forest of the mountain girl, no one except Akaira and Penki, who were not immortal. The two brought a sense of time and purpose back to the lost souls of Ranma Ryouga Shanpu and Mousse, but most of all to Ranma.   
  
* * * * * * * * *   
  
Ranma cradled Penki's not longer small body in her arms, her daughter was nineteen now, and she had to deal with death. It was the first death on the mountain in a long time, a very long time. Ranma's tears of absolute grief intensified as she thought about how there would be one more death on the mountain before it was all over. She hugged Penki tight, she loved her daughter, as she had loved the first childeren that Akane had given her, all those years ago.   
  
As she embraced her daughter, she knew that Akane's soul would find her again. Happiness was fleeting, but if she waited patiently, it would return to her. Maybe even Penki would find her way home again. She looked up at the trees through teared eyes, "yes" she thought, "We are like trees, we weep as the short summer flowers that bring out lives happiness leave us in the winter's cold."   
  
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--As I'm sure you know, Ranma½ is not my creation it is the Creation of Rumiko Takahashi--  
  
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End file.
